Big Boyness

Isaiah is impressing and surprising us every day with his latest big boy achievements. Last week it was the move out of our room and into his big boy bed. We really had no expectation that either would happen any time soon. But he slept through the night without so much as a peep. Then last night when we were getting him into his PJs, he said he didn't want to put on a diaper until right before bed, but when that time came, he said he didn't want to wear a diaper at all. Since he's woken up dry quite a bit, we said "why not?" and sure enough, he woke up dry and the organic (and incredibly uncomfortable) mattress that we just bought him was spared. Then this morning he got his shoes on without any reminder and happily agreed to brushing his teeth! Usually we just brush teeth at night but our successful dentist apt last week seems to have eased the way to brushing after breakfast too. That's a good thing since our main incentive strategy for pooping in the potty or whatever else we want him to do lately is chocolate chips! I've just started moving towards stickers instead and that also seems to be working.

OK, so before you all roll your eyes at this litany of good news I should add that yesterday was the hardest preschool drop off we've had since Shayna was born. Total melt down to the point where he was lying on the sidewalk practically foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. I basically tried to wait it out, but eventually had to just carry him into the room, transfer him to his teacher Maya's arms, and then fled with him screaming, tears running down his face. Miserable. Of course he stopped crying within 30 seconds of my leaving.

So it's 2 steps forward, 1 step back, but we just continue to be amazed by the leaps forward, especially at how he is the one to initiate them.

Oh, My God!

So that's Isaiah's latest expression, unfortunately. He is the ultimate imitator. I feel like Josh and I are really good about watching our language but this particular expression must cross our lips more often than I realized. It doesn't really bother me all that much, but it reminds me of my mom getting on my case for "taking the Lord's name in vain" when I was a child. I think her nagging never really stuck as I knew she wasn't much of a believer so it was just out of concern for others that she was reprimanding me-- hardly something to motivate a 7-year old but something I do care about now. But will I be able to look myself in the mirror if I take the obvious step of saying "golly" and "gosh" and "oh, my goodness!" instead?

The End of Innocence

The other night I was caught totally off guard while putting Isaiah to sleep. I began reading him a new book, titled the "The Birthday Surprise" that had just been given as a gift. About a third of the way through the book I realized it was about an old cat that was going to die. Not being particularly skilled at improvising new plot lines, I just kept going. But immediately after I read the page where the cat dies, Isaiah looks at me and asks point blank: "Am I going to die?"

I've avoided the subject of death with him thus far. Perhaps using the word in reference to bugs or something, but never explaining it. I mean the guy's not even 3 yet!? But how was I supposed to answer this question? You always hear that there's no text book for parenting, but at that moment I really wished I could hit the pause button and refer to one for fear of traumatizing him with the wrong answer and damaging him for life.

I answered "yes" in a calm voice and just said "everything that's alive dies at a certain point, but you are very young and you are going to live a very long life." Unfortunately, this was followed by a primal scream and the words, "But I don't wanna die!!!" I thought I'd really blown it at that point, but all I could do was emphasize how far off death was "when you're 100." I admit that I even said, "well, maybe when you're older they'll invent a way to avoid it." And I sure wishes that I believed in Heaven so I could make death into some fairy tale where we all live happily ever after.

Somehow I changed the subject eventually back to the much safer topic of Lighting McQueen, the famous race car from the movie Cars. But Isaiah, not to be thrown off track, still interjected the question I feared most, "Are you going to die?" Again, I said "yes" - how could I lie about something so fundamental - but I once again explained that this would be so far in the future and he would be all grown up, etc.

By the time I left his room he was calm, but I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach. In the morning, I was relieved that while the subject was still on his mind, it had already turned into a joke. When I offered him oatmeal, he responded "Oatmeal doesn't die" with a laugh. It's come up a little bit since then, but thankfully not obsessively.